Beguile Me

[Bartholemieu]

Bartholemieu Eloi Bertrand – seated failsafedly at against an expensive three hundred sixty degree swiveling, pneumatic height adjusting, leather-seated chair – ran a finger against its arm, content expression evident in his near-Aryan features. Quite a lovely chair it was. A new one, hence his desire to take note of every aspect in order to assure himself it was worth the money.

He tapped his fingers against the desk in a fidgety manner, brows furrowed. Yes, indeed he now had himself a brand new office chair, but now that refurnishing and organizing his office had been completed, the Bertrand heir was left with little to do.

Listless, listless, listless. He knew that the only cure for such a thing was to stop thinking about it and brainstorm. This was a dilemma, however, for a golden spoon in one’s mouth for long enough and they are prone to languor.

[Kazzyl]

Kazzyl held an ear to Bartholemieu's door, on the off chance he may be working and the presence of his beloved Kazzyl might somehow distract him long enough for him to realize he didn't actually want to be doing it.

When he heard nothing that sounded like someone spoiled hard at work, he pushed the door opened and sighed at the sight. “You know; one can only admire his money for so long.” He commented, not bothering to hold back around his childhood friend-turned-boss. “Anyway, I filled out your paperwork from yesterday.” he dropped a pile of papers on his desk. “No need to thank me, though I know you won't.”

He turned his attention to the new, expensive-to-look-at chair with distaste. “Nice chair.” he offered. “people are starving in other parts of the world you know. You could have fed twenty dying children for the price of this thing. Not that you care about moral obligations or anything, I”m just sayin'.”

[Bartholemieu]

“Ah, yes. We all know of your bleeding heart, Kazzyl.” The boss folded his hands together with a complacent smirk, turning the chair until his right-hand man was more comfortably viewable. “Commendable, I suppose, but not necessary. Unless you’d prefer life as a social worker. I’m assuming you like your job.”

It wasn’t a tone hanging with threat in the slightest; he’d be lonely without Kaz, and he knew that well. Instead, the French-blooded heir used his words as simple jest, used to such engagements – the two tossed biting remarks at one another daily, and this was merely another display of such a relationship.

Barom tapped his fingers on the wood of his desk in calculated beats, rows, one might say, perhaps a subconscious gesture due to years of forced piano and woodwind lessons. He gazed up at the other in calm familiarity. “Any news?”

[Kazzyl]

Kaz crossed his arms, glaring. He smiled viciously in his direction. “Yes ,actually. On the Bartholemeiu Richter scale, levels has reached a six and continue to rise. If these reports continue, his head may explode from jackassery.” He reported, as though this was legitimate news Bartholemeiu needed to hear.

He drew forward, examining Barom's desk, which hadn't been used for work yet today. He ran a finger over the dark wood, stepping around it to approach him. “If you want me gone so badly, you could just say it.” He offered cheerfully. “I'd rather deal with a few young brats than deal with one that should have grown out of it by now.”

[[short, sorry]]

[Bartholemieu]

Bartholemieu smiled shrewdly, copying his advisor’s movements down the wood in another second of admiration. He was used to this tongue-in-cheek attitude from Kazzyl by now and though it irritated him, there was little he could do. “I don’t want you gone.” He countered, grin full of astute musings. “What fun would it be with you gone?”

He paused. “You don’t need to answer that. I know you have answer.”

With that, Barom stood from his chair with a slight stretch, moved toward the other, then fell to comfortable crossing of the arms pose. He wanted to know whether his childhood friend was done with his work for the day. Perhaps they could spend a little time together, like old times – that was, if Kaz didn’t have a social schedule set up already.